Depravity at its Best


Aaron found this sign at the antique store I live by, which I still need to take you to. I feel like that’s pretty depraved if you’re in a place of your life where you are stealing Barbie shoes. My mom really wanted this house ornament at that antique store. She had a lot of the hallmark Christmas building collection, and she fell in love with this one in the form of a little cafe. However, I got they and they TOTALLY didn’t have it anymore, so instead I’m buying her an electric can opener.

On the note of depravity, I took Toni to the hospital recently and it exposed us to a good portion of it. There was one guy in an ER wheelchair rolling around the waiting room (which was packed with people – always indicating a good start at the hospital) and he kind of resembles Jesse from Breaking Bad. This guy is moaning and groaning and wearing hospital clothes, which I am forced to assume at this point that he had pooped his pants and needed replacement clothes. He’s groaning about his leg and asking people for cigarettes and looking truly miserable. We come to find that the name of groaning chair man is Jeremy as he gets called into the back. After a long time of watching smiling women on the waiting room tv describe how wonderful their lives are after being tested for STDs, we also get called in. One of the most amusing aspects of this entire journey is that they steer Toni to “hall bed #4,” where there are just hospital beds lining the hallway with a piece of paper on the wall to label each one. In “hall bed #5” there was a loudly snoring one-armed homeless man whose paperwork that is sitting out says: DRUG ABUSE General.

As Toni makes room for me to sit at the end of her hall bed, get get to watch Jeremy howl in disoriented pain as they inspect him. It was like we got to be a part of some weird drama medical show, as we observed with perfect clarity as Jeremy is looked at briefly and then quickly set into motion to discharge. As he is being discharged, he says: “I can’t believe it’s just a skin thing, don’t I get any meds for this??” When the nurse says no, he proceeds to tell her to fuck herself and throws a little fit about how unfair this is until a pudgy security guard came to hustle poor, limping Jeremy out of the facility. But of course not without telling him to fuck off first. The true glory of a county hospital. The nurses were genuinely heroes and I don’t know how they did it.

Work has also become more interesting. Since I have been moved forward in my schedule from daylight savings time on the East Coast, I have been the last to leave my team for the last half hour I work. And that half hour is when the weird calls come in – when no one can help me and no one else can take the call. One guy called recently who seemed very drunk and just asked for his good friend Kelly. However, I do not work with any Kellys nor do I know of any that exist in the whole building. He then slurs out an apology and wishes me a merry Christmas and Happy New Year.

I hope you have enjoyed my depraved stories, it’s the best time of year for them. Christmas brings out the weird in people.

On a different note, congratulations on finishing your first semester of further education!!! You worked your butt off girl and I am so glad that you never let yourself derail despite getting sick and dealing with all sorts of things on your plate these last few months. I am also very excited to see you Chelso and I am looking forward to doing Maryanne and Cheslo things this Christmas!! I am also excited that this is the first time I’m buying you a gift that my parents did not give me the money for.

See you soon Chelsea!! 🎄🎄


Let’s Hum a Hum

(My DRAFT has appeared)

Hello Mowyanne Mowbley,

Panic is starting to set in because it is the holidays, which means celebrations are around the corner. I like a good party especially when it is acceptable to wear an ugly sweater.

The particular event that I am thinking of attending, the one that is also causing me stress, is in celebration of finals coming to close in december. The caveat is that it is a Karaoke bar.

I am not exactly great singer. Like at all. The only person who likes my singing is Chris but he’s tone deaf.

So I have been trying to figure what songs I would even sing. It made me think of an episode of Portlandia, where they hire a singing coach to prepare them for a karaoke party, just for the people before them to steal their song.

I am at a loss. The only song I know al the words too and is sort of in my range is the pokemon theme song.

I don’t like popular music very much so I have no idea what to even do.

What do I with my hands?

Do I dance?

Do I sing loudly?

Do I try to sing good?

Do I pick a song that is a “crowd pleaser”?

Give me any of those tips!

To be in theme with my blog here are some google images comprised of typing: Singing ____

Look Look Look


I finally found a somewhat respectable purse I salvaged from Payless and I love it. I’ve also filled it with things out of excitement, so it is currently way too heavy. It may even qualify for a “what’s in your purse” entry revisit, we will see. I also got a great deal on it while wearing the cat watch, so I hope to have done your grandmas energy proud. It also needs a new band soon, in order to preserve its glory.

My hand showed the first glimmer of real healing today when I accidentally grabbed a couple of things with it, and it did not immediately start hurting. So I have hope things will get better without the need for surgery. Also, I know that I’m a deep down grandma at heart, but I did not know it is an inherent part of my aura. With only just barely meeting me I have found people seek me out for supplies. Today, this guy walked over to a mom in the office for something, then said “oh well, I’ll go ask Maryanne.” He comes over to ask me if I have allergy medicine/pain reliever/$.50 and didn’t ask anyone else. This sort of thing has been happening frequently recently, that if someone needs anything along those lines they come to me or other motherly individuals. I’m starting to be suspicious that it’s a vibe I’m giving off or something. Not that I mind being asked, as it is a part of my grandmother duties. But my curiosity had been piqued as to what impression I must give to be immediately sought for in these scenarios.

This is also around the time of year almost three years ago that Fooby graced my life. Although don’t hold me to the math it’s all been a loving blurr. However, out of inspiration from your cat Christmas poem and for celebration of my favorite cat, I have written a tribute to her in the form of Jingle Bells:

Dashing up to me,

Hopping on hind legs,

“mow” and “mow ” she goes

On and on she begs!

Her meow is hoarse and weird,

Her eyes are huge and wide,

What fun it is to scratch and whine when you feel trapped inside!

Jinge Bells, Kitty smells

She can’t lick her butt,

Oh what fun it is to be a fat, striped, inbred mutt!


I look forward to your next post Chelso and I’ll probably text you after I post this. Bye!